January the 2nd
by quillstrike
Summary: A glimpse into the relationship that never was. "Ms. Granger, what exactly is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Draco Malfoy?" / "He saved me, and I killed him."
1. January the 2nd

_Author Note: following is NOT in chronological order._ _The **original version (collection of recorded interviews) is hosted on my tumblr** (quillstrike) - I highly suggest checking it out. This is my entry for the WA Alternate Format Challenge. _

* * *

**MINISTRY CONSPIRACY UNCOVERED: SHOCKING SUBTERFUGE; "I KILLED HIM," SAYS WAR HERO HERMIONE GRANGER**

 _By E.M. STRIKER / December 21, 2000_

"HE SAVED ME, AND I KILLED HIM." - HERMIONE GRANGER

Shocking new evidence has come to light two years after the Battle of Hogwarts. A source within the Ministry has leaked a dossier unveiling the existence of a top secret mission. The documents reveal the existence of an as-of-yet unidentified man, listed simply as "Interviewer 1," who appears to be spearheading the directive. Interviewer 1 (I1) conducted a series of interviews with notable figures like Mr. Harry Potter, commonly known as the Boy Who Lived, and his companions.

Although the interviews appear to be incomplete, one date appears repeatedly in the few salvaged - January the 2nd. A document obtained through confidential means reveals the source of this fascination: when Luna Lovegood, then 16, was asked to elaborate on the night of January the 2nd, known to few as the night of Harry Potter's imprisonment in the Malfoy manor, she alluded to a mysterious occurrence involving the late Death Eater Draco Malfoy.

"I heard Draco shouting...I'm not sure what he was saying exactly," Ms. Lovegood told her interviewer on January 5th, 1998. When asked to elaborate, Ms. Lovegood surprisingly pointed to Ms. Hermione Granger, now known to many as a war hero and advocate for house elf rights. "You'll have to ask Hermione," Ms. Lovegood said.

In a later interview, labeled File No. 095 and dated March 17, 1998, Ms. Hermione Granger herself comments on the Death Eater's role - or, rather, her silence reveals much. When pressed to reveal the nature of her relationship with Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger states only, "He saved me, and I killed him."

Mr. Draco Malfoy's death is officially dated May 2nd, 1998 - the night of the Battle of Hogwarts. Ms. Granger's interview, however, occurred two months prior. The interview unfortunately ends with Ms. Granger's foreboding statement, leaving the mystery of Ms. Granger's alleged role in Mr. Malfoy's death a mystery.

Ms. Adelaide Lance, head solicitor for the Ministry, declined to comment.

The release of these documents marks an intriguing new development in a war so many are still struggling to come to terms with. While only a few interviews to date have been recovered, they summon questions about this fateful January night and the Ministry's role in the war - what else is the Ministry concealing?

Below are excerpts from the newly released documents.

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 095; 17.3.1998**

 **SUBJECT: Interview with Hermione Granger, aged 18.**

 **Location: Shell Cottage.**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. At 2332 hours** , Interviewer 1 ("I1") began his interview with Ms. Hermione Granger ("H. Granger") in Shell Cottage. H. Granger appeared noticeably tired and remained silent for the majority of the interview. FYI: friends of H. Granger note that her disposition shifted most apparently after January the 2nd. On January the 2nd, known Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange tortured H. Granger, an occurrence that most likely is responsible for H. Granger's reticence. I1 began the interview by congratulating H. Granger on her successful mission at Gringotts, during which H. Granger, Mr. Harry Potter, and Mr. Ronald Weasley retrieved a valuable Horcrux (see: dossier on Helga Hufflepuff's Cup) from the Lestranges' vault.

 **2\. At 2356 hours** , after multiple attempts to get H. Granger to elaborate on the events of January the 2nd, I1 diverted from official protocol and asked H. Granger about the nature of her relationship with Mr. Draco Malfoy. FYI: this question was not included in the list of prepared material, of which I1 was fully aware. It is of note that, post I1's interview with Ms. Luna Lovegood on January 1st, 1998, I1 has been inquiring into the life of Mr. Draco Malfoy. It is also of note that Mr. Draco Malfoy perished early the morning of January 2nd.

 **3\. At 2400 hours** , H. Granger reported: "He saved me." When asked to elaborate, H. Granger remained silent between 2400 to 2420 hours. At 2421 hours, H. Granger added: "He saved me, and I killed him."

 **4\. CURRENT STATUS** : H. Granger exhibits clear signs of emotional trauma. It is recommended that she remain under close study.

 **5\. PLANS** : Further inquiry is needed into H. Granger's cryptic comment. There is no evidence of Mr. Draco Malfoy's involvement in H. Granger's escape from Malfoy Manor or of H. Granger's hand in his death. We suspect this comment stems from her prior trauma (see: H. Granger's medical report, January 3rd, 1998).

 **END MESSAGE.**

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 032; 5.1.1998**

 **SUBJECT: Interview with Luna Lovegood, aged 16.**

 **Location: Shell Cottage.**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. At 0732 hours** , Interviewer 1 ("I1") began the interview with Ms. Luna Lovegood ("L. Lovegood") at the infirmary in Order Headquarters. FYI: L. Lovegood returned from imprisonment at Malfoy manor on January 3rd, 1998 and has been in recovery ever since.

 **2\. At 0740 hours** , L. Lovegood commented on the existence of Wrackspurts floating around I1's head. L. Lovegood ignored I1's attempts to redirect the conversation to the events of January the 2nd and instead extracted a hefty, misshapen green tube (a "Wrackspurt siphon") from her bag. I1 accepted the siphon and half-heartedly tapped it against his head. I1 asked L. Lovegood to elaborate on her mistreatment under the hands of her captors, Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco Malfoy. L. Lovegood revealed that she had been taken captive while flying home for the Christmas holidays because her father, Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood, had initially printed articles supporting Mr. Harry Potter. FYI: Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood is currently under Order control for his crimes against Mr. Harry Potter.

 **3\. At 0751 hours** , L. Lovegood noted that her captors appeared scared. When I1 expressed surprise, L. Lovegood affirmed her prior statement. She reiterated her concern about the Wrackspurts - I1 tapped his head again with the siphon (FYI: further inspection revealed that the siphon was constructed from a highly dangerous thestral hoof; it was confiscated immediately and sent into lockdown) - before revealing that Mr. Draco Malfoy was shouting something indiscernible. When asked if she could elaborate, L. Lovegood insisted that I1 ask Ms. Hermione Granger.

 **4\. CURRENT STATUS** : L. Lovegood is medically stable and is scheduled for release from the infirmary at 1000 hours.

 **5\. PLANS** : L. Lovegood has expressed interest in visiting her father. We recommend that she be granted this request.

 **END MESSAGE**.

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 01; 20.12.1997**

 **SUBJECT: Interview with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror aged 41.**

 **Location: East London.**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. At 0802** **hours** , Interviewer 1 ("I1") meets Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt ("K. Shacklebolt") in a debriefing room located in East London. This marked the first official interview of Project Phoenix. I1 began the interview by asking K. Shacklebolt to give his opinion on the current state of the war. K. Shacklebolt responded, "I fear that, in the absence of a decisive blow, this war will have no end. With the fall of the Ministry and the rampant hunting of Muggleborns and half-bloods, chaos brings favor to Voldemort's forces. Just earlier today, I received word of a massacre in downtown London - two Muggles and their Muggleborn daughter were killed in their own home."

 **2\. Between 0810 and 0820 hours** , both remained quiet. At 0821 hours, I1 asked whether K. Shacklebolt was implying that they were doomed. K. Shacklebolt emphasized Mr. Harry Potter's importance. FYI: Mr. Harry Potter has become the face of our movement. From birth, he has symbolised hope and courage and is believed to be integral to our movement's survival. Currently, Mr. Harry Potter's whereabouts are unknown, but he is thought to be following the late Albus Dumbledore's instructions.

 **3\. At 0825 hours** , K. Shacklebolt mentioned the presence of Voldemort's spies as one of his main concerns. K. Shacklebolt then requested further information on Project Phoenix. I1, as directed, did not disclose any detail, and the interview was concluded.

 **4\. CURRENT STATUS** : K. Shacklebolt remains a valued Auror. He is medically stable.

 **5\. PLANS** : K. Shacklebolt will remain active in the field and may be called upon again under the authority of Project Phoenix.

 **END MESSAGE.**

* * *

 **EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH HARRY POTTER, AGED 19, AND RONALD WEASLEY, AGED 19: "THAT BLOKE AND HIS FAMILY WERE AND ALWAYS WILL BE HORRIBLE PEOPLE."**

 _By E.M. STRIKER / January 2, 2001_

 _UNEDITED VERSION_

I sat with Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley on a foggy afternoon in the Burrow. Upon entering the famed home, newly restored after the events of the Second Wizarding War, I couldn't help but marvel at the quirky interior - yes, the Weasley family does possess at least 51 hand-painted china plates displayed on their walls (I counted) and, yes, they are all delightfully charming. Mr. Potter kindly offered me some toast, exhibiting some of his famed lovability, and Mr. Weasley asked me if I was the journalist who had uncovered "that odd business with the Barnes bloke."

"Barnes bloke?" I made sure to ask. The December 21st, 2000 release of three classified interviews (one with Ms. Hermione Granger, one with Ms. Luna Lovegood, and one with Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt) stirred a frenzy in the wizarding media, with hundreds taking to the streets to demand the release of the remaining files. The Ministry - and the people mentioned in the files - remained quiet. These interviews, however, never mentioned anything about a "Barnes bloke." As the first journalist to secure an interview with wizarding heroes Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley (Ms. Granger declined to comment), I will make sure to extract as much information as possible.

Mr. Weasley turned a charming shade of red. "Oh. Um, I thought you knew about that."

Mr. Potter jabbed his friend with his elbow, and they engaged in a brief scuffle. "What Ron means to say," Mr. Potter said after a brief pause, adjusting his glasses, "is that we're not entirely sure what we're allowed to tell you. Unfortunately, I think we can only talk about the things you've already released."

"Of course," I made sure to say. "But, now that you have already mentioned this Barnes fellow, please do elaborate."

Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley looked at each other again. "He's some secretive fellow who interviewed me and Harry a few years ago. I don't really know why there's such a huge fuss about him - er, no offense," Mr. Weasley said, looking at me with admirable concern.

"That's quite alright," I said. "Is it safe to presume that Barnes is Interviewer 1?"

"Yes," Mr. Weasley said slowly.

"And what did Barnes want to know?"

"Stupid stuff, really. He interviewed us right after we got back from Gringotts - you know, when we recovered the Horcrux from the Lestrange's vault - and we were all a bit distracted, to be honest. Hermione was oddly quiet and, well, we were all tired."

"Yes, let's talk about Ms. Granger. Do you know what Ms. Lovegood meant when she told Barnes to ask Ms. Granger about Mr. Malfoy?"

Mr. Weasley frowned. "I don't know why everyone's making up some illicit romance between Hermione and Malfoy," he said, sounding quite cross. "Look, I'll tell you what happened. We got up to the main floor after several hours - Hermione was long quiet, by then, and we were terrified she might be dead already - and saw Draco lying in a pool of blood. He - he wasn't moving, and I saw Mrs. Malfoy crying beside him. Dobby - the house elf - cast a diversion and we were able to escape. End of story."

I turned to Mr. Potter, who had remained suspiciously quiet. "Do you agree with this interpretation, Mr. Potter?"

Mr. Potter hesitated before saying, "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't see how talking about this now will change anything. Barnes was some strange man who asked a few questions about January the 2nd and about Draco. Nothing came of it."

As much as I wished to give anything (including the shirt off my own back, although I suspected that would earn me the unending ire of Ms. Ginny Weasley, a reporter who incidentally works just down the hall from my cubicle) to the Boy Who Lived, the journaling gods drove me to press on. "Please, Mr. Potter. Humour me."

"We got caught by some Snatchers and were sent to Malfoy Manor. My face was still disfigured, so they weren't sure it was me, at first. They - they sent for Malfoy - er, Draco - for confirmation."

"And did Mr. Malfoy expose you?"

"No," Mr. Weasley said. "No, he didn't. He was probably waiting so he could send for Voldemort himself and get all the glory."

"Then what happened?" I pressed.

"They shoved us into the basement while they debated what to do. Bellatrix saw the Sword - the Sword of Gryffindor, I mean - and tortured Hermione. I - I should have stopped her, should have found some way to save Hermione from that madwoman."

"There was nothing you could have done," I said, bravely resisting the urge to hug the Boy Who Lived and protect him from all harm.

"There's always something I could have done," he said quietly.

After a brief break to collect myself, I asked Mr. Potter to elaborate.

"Barnes seemed interested in the relationship between Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger. Care to explain?"

"I said this to Barnes, but there's really nothing I can think of. I've seen the tabloids, and they're all wrong - they weren't star crossed lovers or anything like that. They fought, but...I guess, in an odd sort of way, they respected each other."

Mr. Weasley scoffed. "Didn't stop him from trying to kill Hermione. That bloke and his family were and always will be terrible people. I can't say I'm sorry to see him gone."

"He tried to kill Ms. Granger? Mr. Weasley, perhaps you can explain what Ms. Granger meant when she said 'he saved me, and I killed him.'"

At this, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley exchanged meaningful glances. "We don't know," Mr. Potter said finally.

"Hermione won't talk about it," Mr. Weasley added, a deep crease appearing between his brows.

My alarm rang, marking the end of our interview, and Mrs. Weasley came rushing into the room. Journaling gods or no, I was not about to risk angering Mrs. Weasley, so I reluctantly ended our interview. Dear readers, here we have it - a relationship of mutual respect and more unanswered questions. Who exactly is this Barnes fellow? Is he still alive?

 _NOTES FROM THE EDITOR:_ Ms. Striker, while I am as shocked as you are at the revelations unveiled during the course of this interview (well done), there is far too much editorialization. I doubt the esteemed readers of _The Prophet_ desire to know that Mr. Weasley's blush is "a charming shade of red." Please, keep the gushing to a minimum (you do realise it is unethical for you to even attempt to seduce an interviewee?). Otherwise, you are set to print tomorrow morning, and I expect you to get to the bottom of this conspiracy as soon as possible.

* * *

 **BREAKING NEWS: SECOND SET OF INTERVIEWS RELEASED; DRACO MALFOY: DEATH EATER OR HERO?**

 _By E.M. STRIKER / January 20, 2001_

2:32 AM.

The release of a second set of classified documents arrived early this morning in the post. The enclosed documents reveal troubling truths: a team of Aurors extracted an unknown individual, referred to as "subject" or "[ _redacted_ ]," from Nice, France in a 960 galleon operation. This individual was held in a classified location for days without human contact. In File No. 100, Interviewer 1 (I1) approached this individual with a job offer. While the details of this proposal remain opaque, it is clear that the Ministry was actively involved in a covert operation that extended its reach over many months and affected many individuals. File No. 100 outlines the voluntary Obliviation of two of the Aurors, a practise long thought ceased due to public disapproval, and a partnership between a Death Eater and the Ministry.

While the Death Eater's identity is redacted, another document, File No. 096, suggests the mysterious captive is Mr. Draco Malfoy - the same Mr. Draco Malfoy reported dead on January 3rd, 1998. Mr. Malfoy's current status and his role in the war remain unknown, and it is clear that the Ministry must be held accountable for these revelations.

Requests for comment from Ministry representatives were unanswered.

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 096; 18.3.1998**

 **SUBJECT: Details interrogation - Augustus Rookwood, confirmed Death Eater aged 40.**

 **Location: [** _ **redacted**_ **].**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. ACTION REQUIRED** : Please ensure that all information is destroyed via potion enclosed after reading.

 **2.** **DAY THREE** of interrogation commenced at 2303 hours. Interviewer 1 ("I1") entered the subject's cell. The subject, in anticipation of this meeting, was contained next to the wall using an enchanted circle of star willow. Upon spotting I1's entry, the subject immediately threatened I1's family. In response, I1 emphasized the duration of A. Rookwood's imprisonment (FYI: A. Rookwood is serving a life sentence for the murder of three Muggle children in London on December 9, 1997). In light of recent developments in the investigation, I1 asked subject whether he had any information on Mr. Draco Malfoy.

 **3\. At 2315 hours** , A. Rookwood spat on I1. I1 declined assistance. A. Rookwood pointed to Voldemort's influence as a deterrent to revealing any information, to which I1 re-emphasized (and exaggerated) the extent of our forces. A. Rookwood expressed surprise at I1's request for information on Mr. Draco Malfoy. It is of note that A. Rookwood believes D. Malfoy to be "a sniveling coward. He's not a true follower." When asked whether he thought Mr. Malfoy was disloyal to Voldemort's cause, however, A. Rookwood alluded once more to Voldemort's all-knowing might: "If he were, the Dark Lord would have killed him on the spot. No, Draco's fault is his boastful cowardice. I would love to wipe that smug smirk from his face."

 **4\. At 2320 hours** , A. Rookwood appeared unaware that he had fulfilled I1's hopes. I1 left the cell, ignoring A. Rookwood's subsequent death threats. It appears that Mr. Draco Malfoy, while disliked, is unquestioned among the Death Eaters.

 **5\. CURRENT STATUS** :Subject will remain in secure cell for the duration of his life. He has minimal contact with guards and will be kept under close watch to prevent escape. In the event of his escape, it is important that he does not leave with the knowledge that we have taken interest in Mr. Draco Malfoy. It is our recommendation that he is interrogated on the status of other Death Eaters to avoid suspicion.

 **6\. PLAN** : It is our official opinion that further evidence is required to confirm Mr. Malfoy's standing among the Death Eaters before future action is taken.

 **END OF MESSAGE.**

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 099; 28.3.1998**

 **SUBJECT: Details extraction of [ _redacted_ ], aged [ _redacted_ ]; headed by Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, aged 42.**

 **Location: Nice, France.**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. ACTION REQUIRED** : Please ensure that all information is destroyed via potion enclosed after reading.

 **2.** **DAY ONE** of extraction occurred at 1210 hours. Upon further information provided by Ms. [ _redacted_ ], Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt ("K. Shacklebolt") led team of Aurors Herrington and Lawless to Nice, France. A Portkey was used to transport the team from London, England to a small cottage in Nice, France. Auror Shacklebolt dismantled the 6 wards guarding the cottage with minor injuries. Upon entering the cottage at 1250 hours, Auror Lawless was hit with a stunning curse. The target, [ _redacted_ ], was armed with his wand (10", hawthorne wood, unicorn hair) and found to be adept at dueling. As evidenced by the single set of cutlery on the table, the target appeared to be living alone for the past 2 months. Target had minimal contact with city residents and was going by the name "Scorpius Thomas." FYI: it is of note that, during his brief stay in France, subject has formed ties with an elderly woman, Mme. Cosette Bernard, who is likely the source of the stack of strawberry preserves found in [ _redacted_ ]'s cupboard).

 **3\. At 1350 hours** , subject was stunned and taken captive. Auror Lawless was revived and minor first aid was administered to Auror Herrington, whose arm and right collarbone were broken in the scuffle. Subject's wand was confiscated and subject was transported to a secure location. Aurors Herrington and Lawless have undergone voluntary Obliviation and will return to the field on March 29th. Auror Kingsley is due for debriefing with Investigator 1 ("I1") at 1500 hours. FYI: the entire operation has an estimated cost of 960 galleons.

 **4\. CURRENT STATUS** : Subject suffered minor injuries but remains medically stable.

 **5\. PLAN** : Subject will undergo close examination and observation to determine mental status. If all conditions are satisfied, I1 will approach him to determine whether he is a suitable candidate for Proposal [ _redacted_ ].

 **END OF MESSAGE.**

* * *

 **TOP SECRET**

 **File No. 100; 29.3.1998**

 **SUBJECT: Details interrogation - [ _redacted_ ], aged [ _redacted_ ].**

 **Location: [** _ **redacted**_ **].**

 **TEXT:**

 **1\. ACTION REQUIRED** : Please ensure that all information is destroyed via potion enclosed after reading.

 **2.** **DAY FIVE** of interrogation commenced at 0201 hours. Mr. [ _redacted_ ], listed in files as "INTERVIEWER 1" ("I1") made first contact with [ _redacted_ ]. [ _redacted_ ] spent the prior 5 days in a maximum security cell per I1's request. [ _redacted_ ] was retrieved 5 days prior from Nice, France by a team led by Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. [ _redacted_ ] has not experienced any human contact; food and water were sent through the magical barrier at 1200 hours each day. When asked via displaced charm if subject had any information to disclose, subject swore and asked why he was "trapped in the bowels of the world's shittiest prison." FYI: prisoner is highly uncooperative. It is of the opinion of examiners that [ _redacted_ ] be condemned to a life sentence immediately.

 **3\. At 0229 hours** , I1 informed subject of his rights and his privacy. I1 introduced himself as "Barnes," after Muggle character Jake Barnes from Ernest Hemingway's _The Sun Also Rises_. It is to be noted that I1 has exhibited a demonstrated fascination with Mr. Hemingway's works, and his choice of Jake Barnes, an impotent and depressed war veteran, ought to be examined by medical professionals. Surprisingly, subject recognized the literary reference and its implications. When I1 expressed his surprise, [ _redacted_ ] stated, "Yes, yes, throw a bloody party. The Death Eater knows some Muggle literature. This Death Eater also, horror of all horrors, owns clothes that are not black or green! Whatever has this world come to?" Note: [ _redacted_ ] appears to rely heavily on sarcasm.

 **4\. At 0259 hours** , I1 noted verbally that [ _redacted_ ] flinched at the mention of "Death Eater." In response, subject made rude gesture with hand and coupled it with: "Can I get another person? This one seems to be lacking all social skills." In response, I1 made a note to modify [ _redacted_ ]'s file to reflect his humour. Subject was then informed of his mother's role in his discovery. Subject reacted violently, revealing his mother as a source of emotional weakness. I1 commented on [ _redacted_ ]'s inability to kill. Between 0301 and 0310 hours, subject slammed his fist repeatedly against the magical barrier. Magical barrier remained intact. Note: enacting a formal recommendation to renew contract with Spell Defense, Inc. for the next 5 years.

 **5\. At 0315 hours** , I1 informed [ _redacted_ ] of his mother's safety. Note: Ms. [ _redacted_ ] currently remains, under close observation by Aurors Herrington and Lawless, in her home. Subject asked to elaborate on his disappearance after January 2nd, 1998. It is of the official opinion that Mr. [ _redacted_ ] perished of blood loss at 0012 hours on January 3rd, 1998 after Mr. Harry Potter et al. escaped their imprisonment. See File 096 for evidence of this supported subterfuge; known Death Eater A. Rookwood also believed [ _redacted_ ] dead. Subject remained silent.

 **6.** **At 0326 hours** , I1 brought up Ms. Hermione Granger. When told that Ms. Granger believes [ _redacted_ ] to be dead, subject exhibited no physical reaction. It is at this point that I1 explicitly mentioned Proposal [ _redacted_ ], to which subject reacted negatively: "You're kidding me, right? The _Order_ has a job for a Death Eater." Subject was visibly affected at 0329 hours and vehemently denied existence of relationship with Ms. Granger. I1, against official recommendation, pointed to subject's conscience: "I believe you have a conscience and _that_ , Mr. [ _redacted_ ], is the _only_ thing standing between you and the likes of the monster so many call the Dark Lord. Here is your chance to make something of your life, Mr. [ _redacted_ ]. Here is your chance to repay Ms. Granger."

 **7\. At 0341 hours** , subject expressed concern and surprise at I1's choice of "repay." FYI: see files 032-095 for evidence of Mr. [ _redacted_ ]'s sense of guilt towards Ms. Granger. Excerpted is I1's statement (retrieved from I1's voluntary memory submission): "It is my business to know things, Mr. [ _redacted_ ]. It certainly wasn't easy to put the pieces together, I assure you, but it's the only thing that makes sense. There is a suspicious gap in the narrative of January the 2nd - I've been told Ms. Granger was taken by Bellatrix alone, but you were there the whole time, weren't you? You tried to stop Bellatrix and your aunt turned on you, probably because she was still mad with bloodlust. Ms. Granger stopped her, and _that_ must have incensed you - a Muggleborn saving _you_ , [ _redacted_ ]. Ms. Granger caused the diversion and inadvertently allowed you to escape - I don't doubt your mother seized upon the opportunity to get her precious son free of Voldemort's clutches." From 0345 to 0355 hours, subject remained silent. At 0356 hours, subject requested information on Ms. Granger's status. I1 again went against official protocol and revealed Ms. Granger's current status (alive). It is at that point that I1 brings up Proposal [ _redacted_ ].

 **7\. At 0455 hours** , subject agreed to accept Proposal [ _redacted_ ].

 **8\. CURRENT STATUS** : After five days of close observation, subject appeared hostile but lacked the bloodlust commonly observed with Death Eaters. It is of our official opinion that trusting [ _redacted_ ] with our lives is a grave mistake, but we also acknowledge that these are not standard times. With the Ministry in shambles and our fate increasingly dependent on teenagers, it is our reluctant opinion that [ _redacted_ ] may be the only candidate suitable to fulfill Proposal [ _redacted_ ]. / Subject's medical condition is stable.

 **9\. PLANS** : Subject will remain in enclosure for the next 24 hours while plans are made to implement Proposal [ _redacted_ ]. He will be re-introduced into the assigned forces on April 3rd, 1998 and will, at that point, send regular correspondence to the team headed by I1.

 **END OF MESSAGE**.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks all for reading! Please let me know what y'all think :) This is my first official foray into Dramione - thanks to Writers Anonymous for providing the kick I needed to finally write something. At this point, I'm marking it as a oneshot, but I might continue it in the future.**


	2. 2005

**2005**

Sometimes, she remembers.

She remembers the sleepless nights spent in a tent smelling of sweat. She remembers the feel of her wand, slick with blood, and the way her hand shook. Most of all, she remembers his face.

He'd looked so young, so tired with his pale eyes open wide and his arms limp at his sides. She wonders at the crudeness of it; there had been no beauty in his death, no poetic fluttering of his lashes or gory burst of blood.

Only silence, and shock, and stillness.

Hermione Granger is twenty-four years old, too old to be scared of the dark.

And yet, she clings to her nightly ritual of lighting all fourteen lamps in the small, university-supplied flat. She keeps her curtains tightly shut and paces the length of the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom, ensuring that all three of her wards are still secure.

It has been seven years since January the 2nd and seven years since she witnessed the death of Draco Malfoy. Seven years since Hermione Granger has had a full night's sleep.

She slides into her wooden desk chair and folds her legs tight, propping her knees against the edge of her desk. The contact settles her; she is here, in this room, and not in the field smelling of fire and blood. She picks a quill from her small ceramic holder, which is molded in the shape of a tabby cat and is a Christmas present from Ginny, and carefully dips it in a small bottle of ink. Then, holding a book of seventeenth century laws open with one hand, she begins to write.

She is in her final year as a PhD student studying the intersection between international policy, ancient runes, and psychology. She has never been able to settle on one subject, so she has combined her three favourite interests into her own graduate program.

She takes psychology and some of her policy courses at Oxford, as it is valuable to obtain a muggle perspective on these subjects. While witches and wizards may possess magic, their knowledge of the sciences is lesser, and she is eager to learn from the best. She studies ancient runes on her own, as the magical world woefully lacks an academic institution for graduate studies.

She dreams of starting her own university, of encouraging higher education in future generations of witches and wizards. Maybe, with education, she can combat the ignorance which fed the previous wars. Maybe, just maybe, she can end, or at least stopper, the cycle of dark witches and wizards.

The classes at Oxford are fascinating, and her tutors are as intelligent and worldly as she always dreamed university scholars would be. Hermione is forging forward with her career, and all she has left is to complete her dissertation and pass her oral defense before she will be Ms. Hermione Granger no longer but _Dr._ Hermione Granger, and the thought sends a thrill down her spine.

A thrill and a shudder, for now, in the deep of the night, she feels his presence. She imagines his hand pressing on her shoulder, his eyes watching her quill, and her hand stills. What had he wished to do with his life? Would he have followed in his father's footsteps? He would not have needed to work - not with his family's wealth - but she imagines he would have wanted to.

Or, at least, she thinks he would have; she does not - did not - know Draco Malfoy well. She only knows that he had the chance to kill her and had refused, and that she had not returned the favour.

And this is why, even as the world shakes free the last memories of war and a new generation of children is born ignorant of battle or the monster named Voldemort, Hermione Granger still feels the weight of guilt settle heavy on her shoulders.

Her quill tears through the parchment, a splatter of ink smearing her last few sentences. She watches the ink seep into the grain of the wood before she wipes it clean with a rag. She could have cleaned it easily with her wand, she knows, but somehow, the mundaneness of cleaning the spill with her own hands is comforting.

Living in her muggle flat in Oxford, surrounded by rolling green hills and scholars studying science rather than magic, she feels slightly more at ease. She still receives the _Daily Prophet_ , and Harry, Ron, and Ginny still write her frequently, but she has lost touch with much of the magical world. She knows, from the announcements column, that many of her classmates are engaged or married or purchasing their first homes. Ron is engaged to Lavender, and she knows Harry is planning to propose to Ginny any day now.

Life carries on. It's a shame she can't do the same.

Hermione takes a new roll of parchment and begins again. She knows she should switch to computers, but she draws a certain satisfaction from snapping open a fresh roll of parchment. Parchment has always been one of her favourite scents.

A dull thumping comes from her window, and her breath catches. Her hand grips her wand tightly as she edges toward it, careful to not approach the window directly. From the side, she twitches the curtain open, exhaling when she sees not the grinning mask of a Death Eater but a small, grey owl.

She dispels her wards with a few flicks of her wand and wrenches open the window. A flurry of snow enters, and she shivers. The owl flutters inside, giving her an accusatory look.

"Sorry, I know it's cold," she says. She fumbles in a desk drawer for a treat, which the owl accepts begrudgingly. The owl is new; as an Auror, Harry is careful to switch owls regularly, as he does not want his communications tracked. Hermione is not sure whether this level of paranoia comes with the occupation or whether it comes from the war - or both. Either way, it is something she understands completely.

She unhooks the small roll of parchment from the owl's leg, careful to avoid his gleaming talons. Relieved of his burden, the owl shakes himself, dislodging snow onto Hermione's small, ratty couch. He settles himself between the cushions and blinks at her, quite at home.

She groans. "Are you staying?"

The owl blinks again.

She supposes the storm _is_ picking up. She closes the window tightly and resets her wards. She doubts anyone will come to her flat, so there is no one to wonder why she is keeping an owl in her room. She has kept mostly to herself these first two years at Oxford.

She settles down next to the owl and unrolls the parchment.

 _Dear Hermione_ ,

 _I hope all is well and that you are doing some things outside of studying. Remember, Hermione, life is not a book! And, no, the library does not count as going out._

 _I've finally done it - I proposed to Ginny last night, and she said yes! Thanks again for your advice on the ring. She loved it. We're probably not going to get married anytime soon; Ginny's just starting on the Holyhead Harpies, and anyway, I don't want to distract from Ron's wedding. Speaking of - Lavender has asked me to tell you that she has decided the bridesmaid's dresses should be - what else - lavender. I think she was hesitating before because she feared it might be too obvious. She's already changed her mind three times, so I wouldn't go buying your dress yet. I'm sure she'll have decided they should be blue or periwinkle or whatever by the time you get this letter. She's already yelled at me for failing to see the difference between 'ocean blue' and 'baby's breath blue.' Hermione, they were the exact same shade - I swear it._

 _Ron wants to know whether your dissertation defense is open to the public. I think he imagines it to be like a grand muggle celebration. I'll try to dissuade him from bringing noisemakers, but it'll be tough. He has his heart set on supporting you in the loudest, most visible way possible._

 _We miss you as always. Molly wants you to come visit for dinner. Please come soon; she's asked me to relay the message three times already, and I think she's going to throw a fit if she has to ask again._

Love,

 _Harry_

 _P.S. the owl is named Archibald. Percy, as you might have guessed, named him, and I borrowed him because all the other Ministry owls are out - work has been crazy busy lately. I can't say much here, but be careful, Hermione. There are whispers of some strange things happening overseas, and it's beginning to leak to the British press. Fear makes people do terrifying things, and even the possibility of another Dark wizard or witch might be enough to send the wizarding world into a frenzy._

 _P.P.S. Oh, Merlin, am I sounding more like Mad Eye Moody? Ginny says I am, and I always denied it, but even I can see that my postscript was a tad paranoid._

 _P.P.P.S. Still, be careful._

She smiles at the news of Harry's engagement and Ron's question. It is just like Ron - and Harry - to try to support her in any way possible. She knows they worry about her; she hasn't been quite the same since the night of January the 2nd. None of them is, but she has changed the most.

It is odd to think of her childhood friends marrying and starting families. She and Ron broke up shortly after Voldemort's demise. She'd been in no place for a relationship, and she hadn't wanted Ron to suffer with her.

She can't imagine committing herself to anyone - not now. Maybe not ever. She's gone on a few first dates over the years, mostly set up by Ginny, but nothing comes of them. She is not ready to allow anyone to be so close to her, not when she is haunted by the blood on her hands.

Hermione Granger is not a war heroine.

Her smile slips further when she gets to Harry's postscript. She hasn't been reading the _Daily Prophet_ too closely, but she's seen enough to know that the front page articles are still mostly focused on Harry Potter and the other heroes of the wizarding world. There aren't any articles on uprisings, magical or otherwise. Yet.

She shivers and stands, pacing the length of her flat to check yet again that her wards are secure. She does not know what she will do if there is another war. She still flinches at any loud noise, still checks behind corners for a glimpse of a Death Eater's mask, a hint of a werewolf's snarl.

She knows her actions draw undesirable attention from her muggle classmates. They are aware of the odd string of murders and 'terrorist attacks,' of course, but they are blissfully unaware of the full extent of the war. In their eyes, the string of unsettling attacks ended as suddenly as they began. Hermione has no desire to tell them otherwise. They should not have to suffer for a war that is not theirs to fight.

She taps the final window shut and looks blearily at the clock mounted above her bedroom door. It is 4:25 am, meaning there are still four hours and five minutes until her first meeting of the day. She eyes the owl, which peeps at her. She tosses him another treat and, rubbing at her eyes, drags a pillow and blanket onto the floor under the window, which is just large enough to escape through should the need arise.

Archibald watches her all the while, and she says to him, "If anything tries to come in through the door, I want you to bite me."

He blinks, and she imagines he understands. "Thank you," she says. It is nice to have company during these late hours; the night, she finds, is the loneliest time. It is during these hours when she is alone with her thoughts, when she knows the last of the stragglers have stumbled home from the bars and have fallen asleep, that she feels the most afraid. Keeping the lights on, Hermione lies down with her wand clutched tight in her hand.

Sleep is slow to come.

 **Author Note: Thank you so much for reading! I've decided to expand this one shot into a full-fledged story, as I've been itching to explore the Draco/Hermione dynamic and the effect of the war. Please consider dropping a comment; I love reading them and try my best to respond to each review! :)**


	3. December

_content warning: depression, anxiety, ptsd_

 **December**

 **WAR HERO RETURNS: HERMIONE GRANGER SPOTTED AT DIAGON ALLEY**

 _By E. M. Striker / December 21, 2005_

It is today, on the fifth anniversary of the release of six shocking interview excerpts, that the wizarding world welcomes Hermione Granger back for the Christmas holidays. The war hero has spent the greater part of the past two years in the muggle community of Oxford, where she is pursuing an ambitious graduate course in psychology, a muggle study of the brain, and international policy.

One has to wonder what Ms. Granger will pursue upon completion of this degree. Will she, like fellow war heroes and current Aurors Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, join the government's noble cause? Or will she forge a new path? Ms. Granger, when asked on future plans, declined to comment.

When asked why Ms. Granger spends the majority of her time in the muggle world, Auror Weasley responded, "Hermione needs some time away to heal. Not that she's hiding or anything, of course. Hermione's a Gryffindor; she's brave, and she'll return when she's ready. She's doing amazing things at that muggle university. They're lucky to have her."

This is the sort of loyalty that explains their great victory seven years ago. One has to wonder whether Ms. Granger has told Auror Potter or Auror Weasley of the truth behind her cryptic comment - we all remember the iconic quote. "He saved me, and I killed him," she said on March 17, 1998. Is this a figure of speech? Has the war hero truly killed a man? Who is this mystery man?

Mr. Colin Creevey, owner of the popular conspiracy forum _Snapped_ , says, "She's referring to Draco Malfoy, of course. We all thought he died at the Battle of Hogwarts, but, according to the Ministry leak, he died on January 2nd. She was in Malfoy manor that night; obviously, something happened."

When asked whether he thought Ms. Granger had actually killed the younger Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Creevey responded, "Of course not! Hermione's not a murderer. It must be a figure of speech."

Figure of speech or not, we are all seeking the truth; if you have any information relating to the Ministry leak - who leaked the interviews? Who is the interviewer? How and when did Draco Malfoy die? - the _Daily Prophet_ will reward all promising leads with a sum of one hundred galleons.

* * *

Hermione flings the paper down with a huff, narrowly missing her mug of tea, and Harry eyes her worriedly over his breakfast of eggs and buttered toast. "What rubbish have they written now?" he asks, pausing mid-smear.

She gestures at the paper. "This blasted reporter is frustratingly nosy," she says. "She's gotten a quote from Creevey, of all people, and it's just going to make people interested all over again."

She'd thought she could put all memories of January the 2nd to rest, but the leak of the six interviews, thankfully all redacted and cryptic, has ensured the public's curiousity. The Ministry has assured her that they've stopped the leaks, but they refuse to tell her who is responsible. Shacklebolt will tell her only that it has been taken care of, but it is hard to believe that anything has been 'taken care of' when she sees Malfoy's face everywhere she looks.

It is a fitting punishment, she supposes. He saved her all those years ago by pretending not to recognise her - she, who had been his classmate for six years. It is only right that she should now be forced to see him.

"Hermione," Harry begins, and he sets his toast down delicately on his plate.

She feels dread clench her throat shut. "Harry, please," she says, and her voice is hoarse. "Not now."

She doesn't know how much Harry knows about the events of January the 2nd; as an Auror, he has access to many classified Ministry files. She just doesn't know whether he has access to _the_ file, the one exposing her guilt and shame. She hopes that he hasn't seen it, for she can't bear to see his shock, his disappointment.

She hopes that he _has_ seen it, for if he can still look at her in the eyes like this, full of concern, even after seeing the evidence of her sins, then maybe there is still hope for her.

Harry's mouth flattens but, thankfully, he drops the subject. He resumes buttering his toast, and the silence pools thickly around them. Hermione swallows around the lump in her throat. " _She's brave_ ," Ron had said.

The thought forces a laugh from her throat, and Harry looks up in alarm. She waves him away, muttering something about remembering something Ginny had said to her, and he nods haltingly, clearly unconvinced.

She is not brave - not anymore.

The early morning sun filters through the Burrow's windows, scattering cheerful patterns across the wooden table. The Weasleys are still fast asleep, and it has become Harry and Hermione's tradition to have breakfast together before the rest of the household wakes. Hermione has come to savor these quiet hours. Harry knows her better than anyone, she thinks, which is why she can summon the courage to ask, "Harry, what is happening overseas? After your letter, I searched magical and muggle papers for news, but there was little to go off of. Is there - is there truly a threat?"

Harry hesitates. There are darker shadows than usual under his green eyes, and he suddenly looks tired and utterly different from the schoolboy she once knew. "You won't find much in the papers; governments everywhere have been working overtime to hush things up."

"Hush _what_ up?" she asks.

When Harry does not immediately answer, she leans forward, saying, "Harry, please. _Please_. If something is going on, I have a right to know."

He looks at her, something sad in his expression, before nodding. "There's a new group of radical American witches and wizards wishing to break down the barrier between magic wielders and muggles. They call themselves MFI; Magic-wielders For Integration. They're mostly muggleborns and half-bloods, and they seem to think combining the two worlds will benefit both; something about combining science with magic to create a sum greater than its parts. Normally, we wouldn't worry about this, but several members have been elected to high positions in the American government. The cause is spreading to other countries; an MFI member was recently elected mayor of a town just an hour south of London. The MFI is gaining popularity and influence suspiciously quickly; the Ministry suspects Dark magic is aiding their cause."

When her eyes widen, he adds hurriedly, "Not Voldemort. That bastard's definitely dead."

The sound of his name sends a shiver down her spine. Voldemort is dead. Dead, like Malfoy. She shakes this thought free, disentangling her mind from its sinuous barbs, and says, "How do they propose combining the two worlds without causing mass chaos? The last time muggles suspected magic existed, they burned hundreds at the stake."

Harry shrugs. "They argue the world has changed since then. They think the potential benefits of combining modern science with magic are worth the risk. The MFI claims to seek an equal partnership, but I can't help but wonder if a truly equal relationship is at all possible. As noble as their cause might claim to be, these are two populations who know little about each other, and they will have little reason to feel altruistically. If MFI gets its way, another war may be inevitable."

The word - _war_ \- makes Hermione's teeth clench tight. Logically, Harry's reasoning is sound; kin selection is a common concept in evolutionary psychology, after all. People are more likely to sacrifice for those closest to them. She hates to think what would happen when nuclear weapons and magic combined; is it even possible to have a winner in this situation?

No. There are no winners in war, only those desperate enough to sacrifice their morality to survive. This is a lesson she knows well.

She forces herself to exhale, pushing her shoulders down from their hunched position by her ears, and meets Harry's eyes. "What can I do to help?" she asks. The words are slow to come, but she says it all the same. As loathe as she is to subject herself to this potential danger, she cannot in good conscience sit by idly whilst knowing that she could be doing something.

Hermione has no desire for another war.

Harry doesn't look surprised that she has volunteered to help, and she feels another rush of affection for her friend. He has such faith in her character - more than she holds - and it is comforting to know that that, at least, has not changed. "I, er, actually wasn't supposed to share anything with you yet, but Kingsley has been seeking potential sources."

"Sources?"

Harry nods, looking reluctant. "Yes - he wants to plant some people in the inside. Hermione, I told him not to ask you; you're so close to finishing your degree and, I'm sorry, but we both know that, well…"

His voice trails off. He doesn't need to finish the sentence. _We both know that you aren't the same. We both know you lost your spark after the war. We both know you are no longer a protector but someone who needs protecting_.

Her fingernails dig into her palms, and she hides their shaking by burying her fist deep in her lap. Her knee jumps to a frantic rhythm, but above the table, her face is still as stone. It makes sense; she is studying at a muggle university. She is muggleborn and a war hero, the perfect evidence of what good can come from uniting muggle with witch. Who better than she to join MFI?

"Harry Potter," she says, and her voice is frigid, "I can handle myself. I have saved your sorry arse more times than I can count. And I will certainly _not_ scurry back to my library whilst you and Ron are risking your lives - especially for this cause."

He smiles, but the same sadness is back in his eyes. "I thought you would say that," Harry says. "Kingsley did, too."

She returns the gesture. Kingsley is the Minister of Magic, and he has done much to improve the government. Under his influence, whole departments were remodeled entirely. He has discarded useless positions created solely for nepotism and replaced them with a leaner model of government. It is several steps in the right direction, and his approval pleases her.

"It's too soon to involve you, though," Harry says. "Having someone of your fame affiliated with the MFI would grant them too much influence here in the UK. We're hoping we won't have to involve you at all; the Aurors have been working around the clock to investigate."

She hopes it won't come to it but knows better than to expect anything but the worst. "So, I am supposed to wait around?"

Harry winces. "No," he says hurriedly. He pauses. "Well, yes, but that doesn't mean you have to do _nothing_. If you hear word of MFI supporters, you can let me know. Just - don't get too involved. Not yet, at least. It'll draw too much attention."

Again, her reputation is a shackle on her ankle. It is part of the reason why she spends so much time in the muggle world. She does not like having her actions tracked, does not like being the subject of investigative journalism. She dislikes the questions most of all.

She nods, haltingly, and Harry's shoulders loosen. "How will I know when it's time?" she asks.

Harry picks up her discarded paper and, flipping it over, points to the front page. "When you see MFI reach the front page, you'll know we were unsuccessful in heading them off."

She nods. Her eyes linger on the black and white photo at the top of the page; it's a grainy photo of her. She looks tired, the slope of her shoulders speaking of defeat rather than triumph. The photographer had caught her leaving a bookstore, and the caption reads, "MS. HERMIONE GRANGER, pictured left, displays her support for independent bookstores."

The label isn't technically false; she does still enjoy a good bookstore, especially a small one, for those are the ones that smell like faded ink and parchment. Still, the caption doesn't sit quite right. It's too much like the old Hermione and not this new, crumpled version.

Harry pushes his last slice of toast towards her. "Eat," he says, and she accepts it. She knows she's lost some weight. She's never been a stress eater, and she's found that almost all foods taste like dry straw in her mouth. She knows she should be better. It's been _seven years_ , for Merlin's sake. Even _Harry_ has recovered, and she knows he faced the worst of the war. The wizarding world didn't pin all of their hopes on _her_ , after all; they counted on Harry, teenager or not.

Her hand shakes, and this time she cannot quite conceal the trembling. Harry stands and comes to her side of the table. He looks at her with such sadness that she feels her eyes grow wet. Bollocks. She has no desire to worry him.

She swipes at her tears, hoping he hasn't noticed, but of course he has - he's Harry. He kneels and, without a word, draws her into a hug. His Christmas jumper is soaked by the time they part.

* * *

 **NOTES FROM SESSION 128; 29.12.2005**

 **PATIENT 15: Ms. HERMIONE GRANGER**

 **History of Present Illness:** 24 y o woman with severe PTSD came in for her weekly appointment. She recently returned from a trip to visit childhood friends for the holidays. She has not noticed any physical changes to her condition but admits that she is still suffering from severe insomnia and anxiety attacks. She complains of a tightness in her chest and lethargy.

 **Social History:** Patient lives in Oxford alone. Patient is enrolled in PhD program at Oxford. Patient does not use illegal drugs, tobacco, or alcohol.

 **Family History:** Patient's mother and father live in Surrey. There is no family history of cancer.

 **Medications** :

Fluoxetine 20 mg - selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor for panic disorder

 **Assessment and Plan** : 24 y o woman presents significant symptoms associated with PTSD. Patient experiences involuntary flashbacks and bad dreams. Patient also experiences insomnia and persistent negative thoughts. Patient is withdrawn and continues to be reluctant to answer questions. She will not elaborate on the cause of her symptoms but has hinted at betraying a significant figure in her life.

It is our recommendation to increase her dose from 20 mg to 30 mg daily and to continue regular psychotherapy appointments.

* * *

 **Author Note:** **thank you for reading and to everyone for your reviews! I love reading your thoughts, and each reviewer will get a teaser of the next chapter ;)**


	4. March

**March**

Hermione is knee-deep in dissertation revisions when she sees it - the first sign that something is wrong.

"MARTA STEVENS OF MFI GAINS LEAD IN CONTENTIOUS MAYORAL RACE IN SURPRISING TWIST OF EVENTS," the headline reads. It's a smaller article, a column, really, tucked away in the bottom left corner of the front page. But it's there, and she knows that this is the beginning.

Her eyes linger on the third word, _MFI_ , before she snatches the paper up, poring over the scant two paragraphs' worth of text. The election isn't for another month, but this woman, Marta Stevens, has secured the lead in the polls. She is running on a radical platform, one that no mainstream politician has ever attempted before, of breaking down barriers. She advocates change, and acceptance, and the dissolution of the pure blood's ironclad hold on the wizarding world.

Normally, these are all things Hermione supports, but she knows from Harry's increasingly brief letters that all is not well with the MFI. Her fingers clench, crumpling the paper, and she feels for her wand at her side.

Her vow to Harry feels like it happened a lifetime ago. She looks at her desk, at the pile of papers and books spilling onto the floor. Her dissertation has kept her busy, too busy, even, to think much of Malfoy, and this has been a welcome blessing. Now, however, she wonders if it is a mistake to have let herself grow so distracted, to miss the real threat until it is too big to ignore.

Her hands are shaking again. It is an awful tick, one she has developed in the past year, and she wedges them between her legs. When that does not work, she goes to the kitchen to brew herself some decaffeinated tea.

As the cherry-red kettle, another gift from Ginny, begins to hum cheerfully, she paces the length of her small kitchen. It doesn't take long; there is scarcely room for a refrigerator, sink, and small stove in the cramped room, and even the tile floors are covered with piles of books stacked high against the dated cupboards.

She is hopping over a pile of books on laws regarding the treatment of magical creatures when she hears the thump at her window. Her wand is in her hand in an instant, and she creeps forward, twitching her flowered curtain to the side with a careful flick of her wrist.

Archibald blinks at her and raps at the window again. She heaves the window open, teeth gritting as she breaks the ice holding it shut. The owl flaps in, shaking the snow from his feathers, and pecks at her expectantly. She rummages in her drawer for an owl treat and, having given the owl what he wants, tugs the small, velvet pouch from his leg.

She opens it carefully, frowning when she sees the small parchment roll and a second, even smaller pouch. She unfolds the parchment first.

 _Hermione,_

 _Are you free to meet now? The second pouch contains a Portkey to the Auror offices. You probably saw today's_ Daily Prophet _; the MFI are rapidly gaining influence, and it's making the Ministry nervous. It might be time for you 'official' briefing._

 _Sorry for the late notice; I know you hate surprises, but Kingsley said it's urgent._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _P.S. Not life or death urgent! Don't worry, everyone's fine._

 _P.P.S. Maybe try to pretend to be surprised when Kingsley debriefs you; he doesn't know that I filled you in already._

The parchment is damp under her fingers. Merlin. It is time, then. She does not know if she is prepared, but she also does not know if she ever will feel ready. She looks at Archibald, who is cheerfully shredding one of Hermione's tufted pillows. "I envy you," she says.

The owl hoots.

She looks around at her flat, feeling the panic that always accompanies not being prepared. The kettle screams, and she jumps, a hex ready on her lips, before she remembers, and she runs to the kitchen, knocking over a pile of books, and shuts off the stove. Then, she runs around her flat like a child hopped up on sugar, flinging books and parchment and travel-sized potions and money and other entirely necessary supplies into a magically expanded bag. She knows Harry is only expecting her for a meeting and that she can always borrow any items from Harry, Ron, or Ginny, but still - she always feels better when she is prepared.

When her bag grows too heavy to carry, even with two arms, she casts a weightless charm on it and swings it onto her back. Then, and only then, does she lift the smaller pouch and, taking one last mournful look at her quiet flat, tips its contents into her waiting palm.

A small, ceramic cat falls, and she has just enough time to wonder why everyone seems to give her cat-related items before she is whisked away.

xxxxxxxxx

She lands in the midst of chaos. Aurors everywhere are shouting, and floating paper airplanes zip through the air, narrowly missing her head. Men and women in standard Auror black race past her as she stands, rooted to the spot, in the center of the storm. She has only the briefest of moments to feel overwhelmed before Ron spots her.

"Hermione!" he says, swinging an arm around her shoulder. He looks tired, but his grin is so familiar, so genuine that she can't help but smile.

"You're here to see Kingsley, right? He wanted to just floo into your fireplace, but I reckoned it'd be better to give you advance notice," he says as he steers her gently through the shouting Aurors.

"Yes," she says. She clears her throat. "What's happening?"

Ron's smile slips, if only for a second. "It's ridiculous. Everyone's running around like they've completely forgotten how to be _reasonable adults_ ," he says this bit loudly, and a blonde woman lobs a paperweight at him.

Ron catches it easily, and Hermione flinches. His expression falls further. "Truthfully, we're spread ridiculously thin. The MFI work bloody _fast_ ; there are rallies all over the UK. Technically, they haven't broken any laws by gathering, but, Hermione, the things they're _saying_."

He shudders. "Can you imagine - so, we go up to the muggle world and say, hey, look, magic is real! Look, we can wave these sticks and conjure up just about anything! Oh, but, don't worry, we're not here to enslave you or anything. Oh, and please don't attack us."

She pales; he doesn't notice. He steers her around a bend and into a quieter hallway, one lined with doors labeled with golden plaques. "Anyway, Kingsley's taken to stationing a pair of Aurors at each rally, which is really draining our forces, and it's not like our regular stuff is lessening at all. There's even talk of bringing in some _Unspeakables_ to help."

He makes a face. " _Unspeakables_ , Hermione."

She hides a smile. She's heard about this interdepartmental rivalry before, but she has the feeling Ron feels this conflict more strongly than the Unspeakables. "The horror," she says, and Ron shoots her an exasperated look.

They've arrived at Kingsley's door. It's frosted glass, but the walls are entirely transparent; a modification made to increase transparency in the government. Hermione fully supports this. She believes Fudge's self-serving greed is partly to blame for the Death Eaters' rise but, then again, aren't they all partly to blame?

Kingsley spots them through the glass and waves them in. Ron moves to leave, and she says, "Aren't you staying?"

He shakes his head. There's a hint of his old jealousy in his mouth, but he manages a smile nonetheless. "Classified, apparently. Kingsley's keeping a tight ship on this mission."

"Oh," she says. She knows how it feels to be left out. Before she can assure him that she is sure Kingsley won't mind if she shares with _Ron_ , of all people, the Auror is backing away, his hands pressed to his ears. "I don't want to know, Hermione!" he says. "Merlin knows I have enough rubbish of my own to deal with."

As if on cue, the thin silver band around his wrist begins to glow, and he curses. The Ministry, having seen how she enchanted the fake galleons all those years ago for Dumbledore's Army, has adapted a similar, more sophisticated form of communication. The bracelets are good for simple messages, but anything more complex than a sentence is lost.

She thinks of muggle technology, of cellphones, and wonders if maybe this is an adaptation that could benefit the wizarding world. She chases the thought away, reminding herself again that there are very good reasons to keep the two worlds separate.

Hermione pushes through the door and smiles when she sees Harry. He's standing, which is strange, but maybe he is feeling restless from the increased activity. He meets her eyes only briefly; his face is tight in that way that hints at a future explosion. Harry has always had a temper and, although it's mellowed with the years, his anger is still a force to be reckoned with.

It makes her uneasy - more so, when she notices that there is a third figure in the room, one she completely neglected to notice at first glance. The person must be an Unspeakable; their face and the shape of their body is completely concealed by their voluminous black cloak and hood, and the sight reminds her unpleasantly of the Death Eaters' masks. They, unlike Harry, are seated in one of Kingsley's wooden chairs, and they do not react to her entrance.

So Ron is right - Kingsley is combining Auror and Unspeakables to address this threat.

The Minister of Magic stands, leaning over his desk to shake Hermione's hand firmly. "Ms. Granger," he says in his deep voice. "Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat."

She eyes the offered chair warily, glancing again at the hooded Unspeakable. Harry, to her relief, slides into the middle chair, allowing her to take the chair farthest from the stranger.

"I want to help, Minister Shacklebolt," she forces out. She is loathe to enter the horrific bloodbath of war once again, but what else can she do? She is desperate and hollow and war has already led her to commit the worst sin, anyway.

Kingsley nods, looking entirely unsurprised. At her side, she feels Harry looking at her, worry creasing the skin between his dark brows. He has permanent lines spanning the length of his forehead - faint lines, like someone has traced his skin with the edge of their fingernail.

"But I need to understand, first. I understand the MFI is promoting a radical agenda; I've looked into the public reports. But this is hardly the first political group to promise revolution. Why is the Ministry so frightened?"

Kingsley folds his hands. They're dark and the backs of his broad knuckles are pocketed with white scars. She wonders what other scars he hides, whether his nights are also to be dreaded. "Memories of the second wizarding world may be fading, but most people still remember the chaos. They have no desire for a third war, and MFI promises that integration is the way - the _only_ way - to ensure peace. They argue that it is the rich, old pure blood families' fault that Voldemort was allowed to amass such power, and the story is compelling to the majority of the population."

Hermione bites her lip. So far, she does not entirely disagree with their doctrine. Her hand pulls absently at her arm, where under the knitted cloth lies the proclamation of her blood - _mudblood_. For all her cleverness and skill with magic, she is still not truly accepted - not by all. He has not answered her last question. "It is not illegal to gather or to win elections, Minister Shacklebolt," she says. "They have not broken any laws. Why are you devoting so many resources to watching the MFI?"

"Ms. Granger," he says, "I thought you of all people would understand; in times like these, preparing for the worst is necessary."

She nods; this, at least, is a lesson she knows well. Still, she presses, "But there must be some reason why the MFI warrants this degree of preparation. What has happened in the States? I've looked at the American papers, but there is no talk of violent rebellion."

This time, it is Harry who answers. "With what they're advocating, the American MFI concerns us, as well. It's not like exposing wizards to the American muggles will have no effect on the rest of the world; muggles everywhere will panic, wondering if their neighbours are witches, too. If - _if_ \- they manage to amass enough votes to pass their agenda, then it is a matter that concerns magic-wielders everywhere. They threaten breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and that is the one law binding all of us together. Samuel Quahog, the President of the Magical Congress, is even more suspicious than we are at the MFI's rapid rise; he wants to take action sooner rather than later."

Harry gives her a meaningful look, and she swallows. Somehow, she doesn't imagine the 'action' will be pleasant. "Can they - can you - not accept that the MFI have won these elections because people are frightened and desire change?" she asks.

Harry shrugs. "That could be the case, yes. Part of it is Quahog's traditional background; he finds it hard to believe that his people, who once approved Rappaport's Law, would now advocate complete integration. Sure, there might be some who truly desire an equal partnership. And maybe the wizarding world could stand to benefit from being introduced to escalators and phones," here, his smile softens, and she knows he is remembering Ron's struggles to navigate a muggle telephone, "but there will be others who will see the muggles and want to conquer them."

"And the other way around," Kingsley adds. "If history has taught us anything, it is that muggles fear, and thus resent, that which they cannot understand. If we are to even _consider_ repealing the International Statute, it must be done over years and only when a proper plan of introduction has been developed. The MFI wants immediate action, and we cannot allow that."

Hermione nods. "I understand that you need an inside perspective. Why me, though? I'm willing, of course, but there are dozens of other muggleborns and even more half-bloods. If I publicly join their cause, others might follow suit; the 'war hero' labeling still holds sway."

She can't help but frown as she says the last portion; she wishes people did not stare at her, did not whisper about her. The stares have grown worse since the publication of those Ministry interviews, but she supposes that it is as much as she deserves for what she has done. She only resents the labeling of 'hero.' She is no hero. She is not someone to applaud or admire or name one's children after.

"The MFI aren't dumb; they're keeping a careful hold on information, and their organization is split into ranks, which, according to the people we already have in their lower base, take years to ascend. We need someone who can skip those years, and for that, we need to appeal to their desires. They favour intellectuals, leaders; the 'cream of the wizarding world,' so to speak. Given your interdisciplinary studies at Oxford and your prominent role in ending the last wizarding war, you're perfect."

It does make sense. Her whole dissertation rests on the intersection of muggle history, psychology and ancient runes. Even more convenient, she is a muggleborn, living proof that muggle and wizard worlds can never truly be separate. Life is a funny, fickle thing; once, her blood was justification enough for torture. Now, it is an asset.

"Alright," she says, forcing her hand from her sweater. The arm is ruined, now, with stray threads pulled away from her scars. "I'll do it."

Kingsley smiles. Harry only looks worried. She knows he wishes he could be the one to enter the MFI - not because he seeks the spotlight or craves the action but because he is _Harry_ and he, at least, is a good man. He doesn't want to see her in danger.

"But what of the pureblood families? Surely they aren't pleased at the MFI's rise. How are they reacting?" she asks. She can't imagine that they, even with their recent fall from favour, would sit idly while a group advocating their downfall gains power.

"Ah," Kingsley said. "As you can imagine, they are not pleased. But the MFI is not stupid; even as they advocate a shift in power, they know that it is difficult, if not impossible, to loosen the pureblood families' hold on the very fabric of the wizarding world. These families control manufacturing, potion distribution, the broomstick industry … everything. Their purses are also deep, which means the MFI has been secretly sending out invitations to several prominent families."

"Aren't they worried their voter base will turn against them when they hear of their hypocrisy?"

"Perhaps, but we think the MFI is betting that they won't find out until they've already voted the MFI into office and, even when they do find out, that they won't care so much when they realise that they won't have to pay so much with purebloods there to foot the bill. We're sure the MFI will paint it as some just tax on the rich," Harry says.

He's not looking at her anymore, and something - paranoia - rises in the back of her mind. There is something they are not telling her, something, judging by Harry's refusal to meet her eyes, that has the potential to hurt her.

"What are you hiding?" she demands. She looks at the hooded Unspeakable who, throughout this whole conversation, has remained quiet and unmoving. "Who is this person?"

She hates how shrill her voice has become, but she can feel another attack approaching. Her throat is closing, and her breath is rasping one-two-three and, Merlin, she feels like she is going to suffocate right there in Kingsley's office and won't that be a funny way to die and -

The Unspeakable turns to her. The hood still masks any recognisable features, but she sees a hand - male - slip from the billowing robe and make its way to the hood.

She has just enough time to wonder if maybe she isn't brave enough for this after all when he pulls back the hood. She blinks.

The room is quiet now. She doesn't know if it's an actual silence or whether her senses have entirely failed her. She cannot think clearly, not when faced with the man she has not seen for seven years.

"Hello," the man says, and she does the one thing she has always loudly declared ridiculous whenever it appeared in in plotlines - she faints.

 **Author Note: thanks to all who reviewed and read! All reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter ;)**


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